


Runaway

by rosejelly



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Lena is thirsty, but can we blame her, characters might be OOC, inspired by that one picture i saw of a blonde carrying an axe, not historically accurate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:47:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24540307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosejelly/pseuds/rosejelly
Summary: Lena Luthor, the only sane child of Duke and Duchess Luthor, is the one thing standing between the Luthor name and absolute poverty. Made to be married off to an earl, she does what any high bred, noble young lady would do. Or not.She runs away and collides with a six-feet tall, axe-wielding, Amazonian looking alien in the middle of the forest.Lena never realised she had a type.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 135
Kudos: 783





	1. Chapter 1

Lena’s feet thump heavily against the wet grass, rain-soaked cloak dragging her shoulders down. The sky overhead is cloudy, shielding the soft light of the moon. If Lena didn’t know exactly where she was going, if she hadn’t planned this for weeks, she would have been caught even before the manor’s gates shut behind her. 

> _“Come now, Lena.” Duchess Lillian’s soft gaze is patronising. “You’re going to be left on the shelf at this point. You are not a child any longer.”_
> 
> _Lena stares at the earl who sits opposite her, hiding his smug grin behind his goblet at Lillian’s words. She would rather swallow glass than give her hand to this man, especially one who treats his people as possessions, and his actual possessions like people. But she knows she’s the only bargaining chip left in Lillian’s hands, the one thing standing between the Luthor legacy and bankruptcy ever since Lex went insane._

The enraged shouting behind her floods her with adrenaline. When she turns to peek behind her shoulder, her heart sinks when she sees the lamps of Luthor manor turning on one by one. 

“C’mon,” she whispers urgently to herself, tearing across the lawn. She’s almost at the edge of the property. Once she enters the thick of the forest, she’ll be able to lose the guards.

  
The shrubbery slows her down. 

Cursing at the branches and leaves that slap against her face, she wades through the thick trees and hanging vines desperately. A low bush catches the edge of her dress, and she claws at it frantically, trying to rip herself free. 

She’s never going back into that manor alive if she could help it. 

> _“What...what about Jack?” she whispers. The earl frowns, setting his goblet down with a loud thud._
> 
> _“Oh, Lena.” Lillian exchanges a sympathetic glance with the earl, like Lena is a naive little girl who doesn’t know any better. Lena’s breath lodges in her throat. “We all know Jack is beneath you. A scholar, really?” She raises her eyebrows at the earl, and pats his hand, thick with gaudy, oversized rings. He seems pleased at her flattery, settling down further in his seat._ _  
> _ _  
> _ _Lillian’s cool gaze pins Lena to her seat._
> 
> _"You’ll be a good girl and comply, won’t you?”_

Lena’s fingers tighten with fury and indignation at the memory. With a heave, she rips the edges of her skirt free and almost topples over. Gasping delightedly at her victory, she stumbles upright and runs, her legs lighter now without a big chunk of her wet dress holding her down. 

The howl of guard dogs in the distance turns her blood to ice, and she charges forward as fast as she can, turning back every so often to see if there was a frothing, snarling Rottweiler at her heels. 

She crashes into something hard, and it sends her flying back a few paces. Her vision swims for a moment, before she blinks and refocuses on what’s in front of her. 

A woman towers above her, unmoving. Lena can’t see much in this darkness, but she can tell that this woman cuts a formidable figure, and from the way she felt like a brick wall when she ran into her, she was probably some kind of a soldier. Lena can see the faint outline of furs against her shoulders, the ragged edges of a worn cloak cascading down her frame. Her hair is scraped into a thick braid, and there’s a blunt shadow of an axe strapped to her back, peeking out from behind her broad shoulders. She doesn’t look or dress like the common folk in Metropolis. She seems like she belongs to the wilderness. 

It doesn’t take much for Lena to connect the dots. 

_An alien._

Lena freezes when the dogs howl again, a long, mournful wail. It means they’ve caught on to her trail. And if they followed her and found this alien, she might be in trouble too. Lex and Lillian had no qualms about killing and using aliens for their own illegal ‘barbarian fights’ they often hosted. 

“You have to run,” she blurts out. The alien tilts her head questioningly. “Those people are coming after me, and they’ll hurt you, too.” 

She doesn’t say anything or make any movement to indicate that she understands what Lena is saying. The trees around her rustle with the wind and it makes Lena jump. She can feel her frustration and panic bubbling up inside her. Maybe the alien can’t speak English at all. 

Common sense indicates Lena should just go already, but she’s certainly not going to implicate an innocent alien in a furious parade of bloodthirsty Luthor guards. 

“I’ll cause a distraction, and you should run the other way.” She points, and the alien turns her head in the direction she’s pointing. “If you see a soldier with this pin,” she hoists her cloak up and tilts the brooch pinning her cloak together so that it reflects the faint moonlight. “Hide from them, okay?” 

The alien has to lean down to Lena’s height to observe the brooch, but still remains silent. Lena wants to shake her, but she probably has no idea what’s going on. Another howl has the alien’s head snapping up to peer into the distance, like she can see anything at all in the almost pitch-black forest. Lena’s heart shrivels in her chest. She’s running out of time. Without another word, she darts off in the opposite direction. 

The alien stares after her, so still that she might be mistaken for a statue or a tree in the midst of the forest. 

Not long after, the guards come crashing into the forest, destroying the quiet. Dogs yank furiously on the leashes, urging them forward in the direction Lena ran. 

They’re gone in seconds, completely missing the statuesque woman in their chase. The alien watches them trampling through the forest like a herd of graceless buffalos, her sharp eyes glinting until the forest falls silent again. She turns to leave, but her shoulders slump and a deep sigh falls from her lips. She tilts her head to the sky, almost as if she’s questioning herself, before she turns reluctantly and follows the path of the guards. 

* * *

Lena’s weary feet skid to a stop as she pants hard, her eyes wide with disbelief. 

She has run right into the edge of her city. The alien had derailed her plans, but she didn’t think she was this far off her original path. The towering brick wall separating the city from the wilderness stretches far out into the darkness beyond what Lena can see. She can’t run along the walls, or she’ll be caught in a second. 

She turns back to the forest, but gives a despairing whimper at the sight of two guards emerging from the edge of the forest, their faces lighting up with glee as they close in on her. 

“Told you taking the shortcut was the right way, didn’t I?” One sneers to the other. “Spoiled little city princesses never know where to hide.” 

His partner grins, and Lena doesn’t miss the way his eyes leer at her rain-soaked dress clinging to her frame. She pulls her cloak tight around her body, her hands digging into the little cloth bag that she’s tied around her waist. 

The dagger she’s stolen is definitely not going to be of much use against two armed guards. She pulls a little metal egg out of her bag, trying to hold it as discreetly as she can. She flicks her thumb against the tiny lever on the side of the egg. 

The guards stiffen when they notice she’s hiding something. They flinch as Lena throws it towards them, staring warily at the weak arc it makes in the air before it rolls towards them. All three of them watch with bated breath as the egg bounces, then clinks harmlessly against their boot. There’s a second of silence before they burst into guffaws of laughter. 

Lena feels her heart sinking. Is her invention going to fail her now, of all times? 

The egg starts rattling gently against the boot, and there’s a soft click before it explodes. Grey smoke bursts and fills the air around the guards, and Lena lets out a delighted, relieved laugh. She runs as the cloud of smoke gets larger and larger, but there’s a sudden hard grip on her arm and she yelps, struggling vainly as she’s hauled up roughly. 

One of the guards somehow got his hold on her, his other arm over his face to shield himself, but Lena can see that his eyes are red and watery. He must have fought the smoke bomb and grabbed the first moving thing. Lena was a fool to run so quickly. 

“You wretch,” he spits, “if the duchess didn’t demand you back in one piece, I’ll kill you here myself.” 

“Unhand me.” She steels her voice and tries to order him, but her voice trembles. Her arm is going numb with how tight she’s being held, little pin-pricks of pain shooting through it. “Unhand me! Let _go!”_

There’s a soft whistling in the air, and before Lena or the guard could blink, the guard is missing his hat. There’s a loud thunk that startles them both, and they turn to look at it. The guard’s hat is pinned precisely to the brick wall by a large, ornate axe. The carved handle gleams even in the soft, filtered moonlight. 

There’s a flicker of a shadow beyond the screen of grey smoke. Lena and the guard are frozen together in their game of cat and mouse as a towering figure steps forward, the thick fur around their shoulders ruffling. 

It’s the alien. 

Without the shade of the forest, the faint moonlight shines directly onto her. Smoke curls around her as she strides towards them, wrapping around toned, lean arms and partially obscuring her features. The smoke clings onto the edges of her tattered maroon cloak as she moves, trailing behind her. It does nothing to hide her formidable bulk, and her eyes are alight even in the grey haze. 

Sharp and blue, like a clear summer day. 

There’s something deeply intimidating about the aura radiating off her, the vision of her advancing slowly, purposefully on the guards like a lioness stalking her prey, that has the guard dropping Lena unexpectedly. She falls to the ground with an oomph, but even she can’t take her eyes off the alien. 

Lena’s pretty sure she’s stopped breathing when the alien stops right before her. There’s a haunting depth to those eyes, and she never takes her gaze off Lena, even as she wraps her hand around the axe’s handle and yanks it out of the wall with a grunt. 

The cap flutters to the ground, and Lena remembers the guards. She turns around, but they’re gone. The smoke is starting to clear. 

A hand extends in front of Lena’s face, and she slides her hand into it without thinking. The alien pulls Lena to her feet, and Lena winces as she tugs on the sore spot that the guard left on her. 

The alien frowns, eyes scanning Lena’s arm. There’s a little furrow between her brows that Lena is dying to smooth away with her fingers, but she stops herself. The alien tilts her head and shuts her eyes, listening. Lena irrationally misses looking at her eyes. 

“They’re coming.” Her voice is a little softer than Lena expected, with a hint of a strange accent that she can’t seem to place. “Let’s go.” 

She jerks her head in the direction of the forest, and marches off before Lena can register what’s happening. She stands in place for a moment, before a long, mournful howl jerks her into action. Against her better judgement, she picks up her pace and hurries after the alien, following her into the thick of the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! thanks for reading. 
> 
> admist all the chaos happening in the real world, i hope i can create an escape/sanctuary for even a moment through the little things i write.
> 
> that being said, if you are in need of help or you're looking to educate yourself, here is a webpage with a list of resources and information you can use:  
> https://zoella.co.uk/2020/06/01/black-lives-matter-resources/
> 
> if you have any other links/information you'd like to suggest, feel free to use the comment section to help one another.
> 
> please stay safe and take good care of yourselves. <3


	2. Chapter 2

It feels like they’ve been walking for hours. Lena is slowing down considerably, and even though she notices appreciatively that the alien has been slowing her pace to match Lena, she doesn’t think she can go on any further. 

She sees an overturned log and hurries over to collapse onto it, her feet screaming in relief. Even though the manor was huge, her soft feet have only ever travelled in silk slippers, and certainly not hundreds of miles of rough forest terrain. The alien pauses and looks down at her, lips pursed in disapproval. 

“Sorry,” Lena says automatically. “I just need a short break.” 

The forest floor crackles as the alien walks over and crouches before Lena. Seeing her this close up lets Lena study the sharpness of her features, the strong square jawline and the smattering of freckles across her high cheekbones, almost invisible against her warm, tanned skin. Her dark blonde hair is scraped into a thick braid, but little tufts of it have come apart and curls softly against her face. Lena wants to tuck those little curls back, smooth it away from her face, but the intensity of the alien’s gaze makes it impossible for Lena to move. 

Her gaze turns questioning, and Lena realises the alien has just asked a question that she had completely missed. 

“Huh?” she says intelligently, and for a second, that stoic mask seems to slip into an exasperated smile. 

“I said, I could carry you.” She glances around. “It’s not safe to stay here for long.” 

“Oh.” Lena flushes. “If you don’t mind-”  
  
The alien has already pulled her to her feet. She’s pressed to her chest, and for one heart-fluttering moment, she thinks she’s about to be gathered into strong arms- 

She muffles a shriek as her world is tipped upside down, and she realises the alien is carrying her over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She strides off easily, as if Lena weighed nothing more than, well, a sack of potatoes. 

She bites back a grumble as she clings to the alien’s cloak. The soft furs under her belly make the ride more comfortable than it should. 

“This is humiliating,” she mutters. She hears the alien give a soft snort of amusement. After a beat, she asks, “Why are you helping me?”  
  
“Why did you help _me?”_ the alien retorts immediately. At Lena’s confusion, she clarifies, “In the forest earlier, you told me to run.” 

“They were Luthor soldiers. If they’d captured you, you’d beg for death. They aren’t exactly kind to, uh,” Lena is cut off as she thinks, and the alien’s lip curls into a sneer. 

“Barbarians?” The word is spat from her lips. 

“Aliens,” Lena corrects hotly. “They would have tortured you if they caught you, so you’re welcome.”  
  
“I know who the Luthors are.” Lena’s eyes widen in surprise. “I recognise the symbol, on the, on your…” The alien struggles to find the word. “On the jewelry.” 

“My brooch?” 

“Yes, that.” 

Lena is silent.  
  
“I’m a Luthor too, you know.” The words are thick in her throat. 

“Hm,” the alien hums thoughtfully. There’s a pause. “You must be Lena Luthor, then.”  
  
Lena’s jaw is on the ground. “You _know?”_

“They have but one daughter. It isn’t a hard guess,” the alien scoffs. “I am also well aware of their... _philosophy_ on aliens.” The phrasing of those words is very polite, but the condescending tone that accompanies it is not. 

“Then why did you help me?”  
  
“Why did _you?_ ” the alien mocks again. Lena can feel the alien’s shoulders suddenly untense under her stomach, trying to relax. “If you were running from them, you’re probably not like them,” she admits. 

Something about those words pierce right through her, and to Lena’s alarm, she feels the traitorous prick of tears. She changes the topic as quickly as possible. 

“It doesn’t seem fair that you know my name and I don’t know yours.”  
  
“That’s just too bad,” she snarks. When Lena gives a huff, the alien surprisingly relents. 

“Kara. Kara Zor-El.” 

“Kara,” she repeats, rolling the name around on her tongue. “Kara.”  
  
The alien, Kara, stiffens beneath her, and suddenly Lena is sliding off her shoulder, and being placed firmly on the ground. The warm hands around Lena’s arms sear into her skin, even through the long sleeves of her dress. 

Then Kara is gone, taking her warmth with her. 

Lena watches as she moves towards a modest wooden hut, almost half hidden by the lush green of the forest. The roof is covered entirely in overgrown moss, dangling down the sides. Little vines crawl up the sides of the brick-and-wood walls. There’s a well nearby, and a little square of land has been dug up next to it. Dried meat hangs to dry, and there’s a round stump with a small heap of firewood. 

Kara shoulders in through the door, and holds it open for Lena in a surprisingly chivalrous manner. Lena enters carefully, trying not to tread mud across the floor. 

The interior is as charming on the inside. There’s a little kitchen with a proper stovetop and a clay oven. A brick fireplace is directly opposite, with a large bench placed in front of it. It’s stacked purposefully with thick furs, and Lena wants nothing more than to sink into it. There’s also a little loft area with a ladder, which Lena assumes is Kara’s bedroom. 

Kara pulls out the chair in the kitchen and points at it. 

“Sit.” 

Lena sits. She busies herself taking in Kara’s little hut, and almost jumps when Kara places a little clay pot next to her. She has taken off the fur-lined cloak, and Lena can fully appreciate the broad shoulders in her sleeveless tunic, and the gentle shift of muscles along her arms and back which aren’t covered by the fur. 

She draws her eyes away quickly, suddenly feeling guilty for ogling Kara like that. Especially when she’s wearing nothing more than a thin tunic and coarse, bulky looking pants. At least her pants keep her long legs out of sight.  
  
_I’m just looking because she’s so...different. I’ve never seen a woman like her,_ Lena thinks. Actually, scratch that, she’s never seen anyone who’s caught her attention the way Kara has. She lets out a long, deep breath, and tries to settle her emotions. She thinks of Lillian’s disapproving glare, and the longing subsides. 

Only to come rushing back in a heatwave as Kara sinks to one knee between her legs, and gently lifts a slender calf onto her shoulder. Her bare shoulder. 

Lena kicks at her out of instinct, dragging her skirts down to cover herself. Kara doesn’t even move, but she does turn incredulous eyes towards Lena. 

“What are you _doing?!”_ Lena splutters.  
  
“What are _you_ doing?” Lena thinks she sees the hint of an amused grin on the edge of Kara’s lips, but it’s gone when Kara grunts and presses her thumb warningly into Lena’s ankle. The heat of her calloused thumb sears through Lena in an unfamiliar but not unpleasant way, and it's all Lena can do to stop dissolving into Kara’s kitchen chair. 

“Stop moving.” Kara presses a damp cloth to Lena's calf, cleaning the long, shallow cuts. She hadn’t even realised she was hurt there. They must have happened when she was thrashing desperately through the shrubbery of the forest. She tries not to think too deeply about the fact that Kara noticed her scratches and is immediately attending to them; maybe they just look worse than they actually are against her pale skin. 

Kara applies the salve from the pot next, a strange honey-coloured mixture. It stings, and Lena hisses. Kara unexpectedly makes a sympathetic hum, her thumb rubbing comforting circles on Lena’s ankle. She melts again, pain forgotten. 

Lena feels like she’s in a trance as Kara cleans her up. When her sleeve is rolled up and Kara is spreading salve gently across the hand-shaped bruise on her arm, she notices her frowning so hard that the space between her brows is furrowed into two little dents. Her fingers twitch, and she’s about to reach out when Kara moves away, taking her little clay pot with her. 

“You’re really good at tending to injuries,” Lena compliments, but Kara’s back tenses. 

“You’re surprised.” Kara’s tone is scathing, nothing like the playful banter they had just now. “Didn’t think a barbaric alien would know anything about medicine?”  
  
“What? No!” Lena defends, “It’s just, well.” She glances around the hut. Everything seems like it's made for one. There’s just the one chair in the kitchen that Lena is sitting on, one long bench, and one bed in the loft. “It seems like you live alone.”  
  
Kara gives a distant grunt.  
  
“So I’m trying to say that you’re really good at taking care of...agh, I’m trying to give you a compliment here!” Kara eyes her, doubtful, then she shrugs.  
  
“I wasn’t always alone.”  
  
Lena is struck by the loneliness of those words, but Kara rounds the table and stands before her again, arms crossed. 

“Why did you run?” 

Lena blinks, then shakes her head with a humourless laugh. “Why does any wealthy, spoiled lady run from her home? Away from frivolous duties, of course. It’s the same long, boring and repetitive story.” 

Kara braces her arms against the table, the curious intensity of her soft blue eyes searing. “I’ve got time.”   
  


* * *

  
“Where were you planning to go?” 

They’re finally sitting on the fur-lined bench. Lena runs her cold toes happily along the soft fur, curled into the seat. Her expensive, scuffed riding boots lie carelessly by the fireplace, abandoned. Kara lounges on the other side, arm stretched across the back of the bench, looking more at ease in her own home. 

The fire crackles comfortingly in front of them, and Lena’s eyes are almost shutting with exhaustion. 

“National City,” she mumbles. Kara’s eyebrows shoot up. “It seems like a better place. They’re more open about new technology and alien rights, and at least they don’t call their alien citizens ‘barbarians’.” 

“You’re not an alien,” Kara says quietly, “why do you care?”  
  
Lena’s eyes harden. “I do care. Just because I’m a heartless Luthor doesn’t mean it’s my hobby to see people around me being tormented on a daily basis.” 

Kara’s chest does a weird little jolt of guilt, but she shoves it aside and changes the subject. “Mmhm. I’ve also heard they’re more open about...women and men who aren’t attracted to each other.” 

Lena can feel her entire body flush, and she pinches herself discreetly on her thigh so she doesn’t betray herself with her expression. Kara, however, seems to still catch on to her rabbiting heartbeat, and edges slightly closer with a smug grin. Lena finds that she doesn’t like that grin in the slightest. 

“I am supportive of love, in whichever form others choose,” Lena says hotly. “National City is a place where people are open and progressive, and I…” She clears her throat. “I want to be a part of that future.”  
  
The fire crackles in the silence. There’s the distant twittering of birdsong outside, a sign that dawn is breaking. Lena sinks into the furs, and despite the tension, her eyes are slowly sliding shut. 

“You should sleep in the bed,” Kara says suddenly, “you must be tired from running around all night.” 

Lena tries to jerk herself awake, and shakes her head. “No, I’m fine here. Honestly. Please don’t give up your bed for me.” 

She ignores Lena and tugs her away from the bench. To Kara’s amusement, Lena lets Kara guide her upstairs to the loft, her soft hand clinging willingly onto Kara’s large, calloused one, even though she’s still weakly protesting. 

“You’re surprisingly hospitable,” Lena mumbles as Kara pulls the covers back for her. 

“Yeah?” Kara can’t stop the sarcastic jab from escaping even if she tried. It’s an unfortunate learned trait. “Not alien enough for you?”  
  
Lena frowns sleepily at her, and the pout on her lips is more endearing than Kara likes to admit. 

“Stop saying that. I just meant that,” she paused to yawn, “that you look so human.”  
  
Kara stiffens, ready for a back-handed compliment. 

“Humans aren’t nice to each other.” Lena flops back onto the mattress in a manner very unfitting of her upbringing. “I thought you would be...more human.” 

She’s out like a light the moment her eyes flutter shut, and Kara leans over the bed, not knowing what to make of her words. 

She pulls the covers over Lena and heads down the loft. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading :)


	3. Chapter 3

Lena expects that an alien’s tolerance for a Luthor would probably last one night, but to her surprise, she ends up staying at the little hut longer than she thought she would. 

It isn’t really her fault. Every time she brings up the topic of heading for National City, Kara would frown thoughtfully, look out of the window like she can still see the Luthor soldiers prowling on the edge of her property, waiting to snag Lena once she leaves the safety of the hut. Her lips would press together thinly, and then the excuses would start.   
  
“Right now? It’s too soon, you should probably lay low until their interest dies down.”   
  
“You’re a Luthor, I don’t think they’ll give up looking for you that quickly.”   
  
“Just hold it off for a few days, till the excitement fades. You want to actually make it to the border of National City, don’t you?”   
  
A few days turns into a week, then a month. Lena doesn’t fancy being a freeloader, so she tries to help out around the hut where she could. Unfortunately, a Luthor’s upbringing and education never considered the possibility that they might have to fend for themselves domestically. When Kara first brought home the rabbits that she’d hunted, Lena had the brilliant idea to make _hasenpfeffer_ , the way her favourite cook once had. Cooking was just another form of science, right? How hard could it really be to make rabbit stew? 

Kara takes one eager spoonful of it and makes such a peculiar face that Lena almost laughed until she tasted the stew herself. 

To her horror, Kara wolves down her serving with the kind of grim determination Lena recognised in front-line soldiers, then held the bowl out and asked for seconds. Sometimes she isn’t sure if Kara has lost her mind a little, living out here on her own. 

After that, Lena delicately lets slip that cooking is a chore for her, and she doesn’t miss the relieved glint in Kara’s eyes. All she gives is a noncommittal hum as she continues to sharpen her axe, agreeing to take over meal prep while making no eye contact at all. Lena smiles. Kara was curiously polite about certain things sometimes. 

Lena occupies her time with advancing the various gizmos she brought with her to defend herself. She takes over the one dining table and chair when she tinkers with her travel sized tool kit that she’s smuggled away. Kara watches her with rapt interest, perched on the edge of the table or with her head lying sideways on it, blue eyes wide with fascination as Lena breaks her gadgets apart and puts them back together with her small, slender hands and even smaller tools. It takes Lena a while to realise that Kara has built another chair for the dining table, so that she can sit opposite Lena and observe her tinkering away. It kind of feels like being watched intently by a large, curious cat. 

Kara is good at building things, too. When Kara presents a full sized replica of Lena’s tiny tools, Lena doesn’t even think before she leaps into Kara’s arms, hugging her so tightly that she would have squeezed all the air out of her if she was human. Lena’s so ecstatic that she misses the pink flush that spreads all over Kara’s cheeks and down her neck. 

When Lena questions her, she grumbles an excuse that Lena knocked into her windpipe and choked her with her aggressive hug. 

Still, a proud and satisfied grin tugs at Kara’s lips as she watches Lena fuss over the tools, hands drifting over them carefully and marvelling at their appearance. When Lena drags her over and gushes over the tools, as if Kara wasn’t the one who painstakingly crafted and agonised over their details, there’s a worryingly soft, aching tug in Kara’s chest. She quietly hopes that Lena doesn’t notice the decorative carvings and symbols in the tools matched the ones on her axe. 

With the new tools in hand, Lena upgrades the hut to an almost unrecognisable standard. Kara has never met anyone as cleverly innovative as Lena is. 

Somehow, she managed to engineer a simple plumbing system that connected the tiny well’s water to their hut. That meant frequent, easy access to running water, an actual modern toilet with a flush and waste disposal system, and most importantly for Kara, _hot baths._ Kara had to extend the tiny hut to build an indoor bathroom and tub, but she was the one soaking in hot water for so long that Lena pounded at the door, demanding her turn.   
  
She likes to pretend her superhuman hearing doesn't work when she sinks her head under the water.   
  


* * *

  
Kara suddenly couldn’t remember a day without Lena next to her, admonishing, chattering or cursing under her breath as she tinkered away. She couldn’t remember how the dining table looked like before it was covered in accidental grease marks and mechanical parts, couldn’t see it without Lena’s back hunched over the table, thick black hair twisted into a bun, tongue peeking out between her teeth as she concentrated. They’ve given up eating at the dining table, cluttered as it is, and resigned to holding their bowls, cross legged in front of the fireplace.

Kara loves and hates eating in front of the fireplace. She loves that it's always warm, and it is indeed more agreeable to have a companion during meal times. 

She hates the way the fire turns Lena’s eyes into flickering, reflective pools of jade, glowing at Kara as she chirps excitedly about whichever project she was currently working on. It almost makes Kara forget to hold onto her bowl, and sometimes the hot stew will tip over just a little, scalding her thigh and making her remember to get a hold of herself. 

Just like that, two months passed. 

Lena steps out of the hut one day to find frost crackling beneath her feet. 

Her dark brows shoot up in surprise. Is it winter already? She’s frighteningly settled into this little hut so quickly with Kara, it felt like her miserable life in Luthor manor was a whole lifetime away. 

There’s a loud thunk coming from behind the hut, and Lena wanders off to bother Kara now that she’s bored. The crisp morning air makes her breath come out in little white puffs, and as she wanders through Kara’s little herb garden, she sees a sight so breathtaking that she exhales in one enormous puff that obscures her vision. She quickly bats it away from her face. 

Kara is standing before the enormous tree stump, wielding her axe casually over her shoulder as she leans over to grab a fresh log to split. She’s wearing her usual oversized, baggy pants, but she doesn’t have her tunic on. She’s in what Lena assumes is her brassiere, which is nothing more than a coarse grey cloth wrapped several times around her chest. It does nothing to hide the way the muscles in her broad shoulders stretch as she carefully balances the log in the middle of the stump, how the deep, strong lines carved down her back shift as she rolls her shoulders. 

When she lifts the axe over her head to bring it down, the way Kara’s smooth, bronzed biceps tense actually makes Lena feel very, very faint. She knew she should have had something more for breakfast than just tea. 

The soft ‘thunk’ of the axe meeting the log grips Lena in a way she didn’t know was possible. The log splits cleanly into half. Kara flips the axe casually in one hand and Lena feels her stomach swoop with the movement. 

She can’t stop the sigh, and freezes like a deer in headlights when surprised blue eyes meet hers. A roguish grin twists Kara’s mouth, and for one heart-stopping moment, Lena thinks Kara is going to call her out for staring in such a blatant manner. 

Instead, Kara says, “Ah, the hobbit has finally left her cave. Run out of ideas for your little machines?” 

The teasing lilt to Kara’s voice does nothing to settle her. She hopes Kara will mistake her flushed face for irritation instead of...something else. 

“Not all of us have built in heaters that let us work outside in the snow.” Kara rolls her eyes at the retort. 

“It’s not even snowing, princess.” Lena bites her lip and tries not to think about how the usually insulting nickname is making her heart drop in a strange way. Thankfully for Lena, the sky takes pity on her and it actually starts gently snowing, little white flakes drifting and circling in the wind. She rubs her arms in anticipation of the chill.

Lena is just about to give Kara the greatest comeback of all time, backed by the weather itself, when she’s stunned by the deeply concerned gaze Kara is giving her. The axe goes down hard into the stump, stuck by its blade, and Lena finds herself pressing back into the wall of the hut as Kara advances upon her. It reminds her of the time she saw Kara stepping out of the smoke, her summer blue eyes ablaze with single-minded intention. 

Before she could react, Kara has snatched her maroon cloak off where it was hanging on the rusted handle of the well and wrapped it tightly around Lena’s shoulders. All her attention is focused on Kara’s grip on the cloak, her strong fingers clenching the thick fabric together to make sure it doesn’t fall off Lena’s shoulders. Her fist rests directly on top of Lena’s chest. Lena’s heart stutters, and she’s sure Kara can feel it thumping hard against her fist. She tries to avoid looking at Kara’s hands, and she tilts her head up to look at her face instead.

That was a mistake. 

Kara is much closer than she thought, so close that Lena can see the little snowflakes trapped in long, blonde eyelashes. The heat radiating off her is enough to make all those chopped logs a moot point; she can’t even tell she’s standing outside in the winter air. Her gaze is steady, concerned, and already a little furrow is starting to work its way between her eyebrows. 

“You should get back inside if you’re cold.” The quiet words are light puffs of hot air against Lena’s forehead. “I’m not going to put up with you if you get sick.” 

Even Lena can tell that’s a bad lie. Her traitorous eyes, however, linger on the shape of Kara’s lips as she talks, the left corner turned down whenever she’s disappointed or worried. She tears her eyes away to look Kara in the eye again. Is it her imagination or is Kara actually drifting down towards her? 

“I can take care of myself.” Lena’s voice is slightly higher-pitched, she can hear it. She grimaces and clears her throat, tongue swiping quickly across her dry lips.   
  
Kara’s sharp eyes immediately track the movement, not subtle enough to fly by Lena. She can see the summery blues darken to a turbulent navy. Her nose is almost brushing against Lena’s now, and suddenly all the words are stuck in Lena’s throat.

The tiny space left between them is charged and bare, and Lena can’t make herself look away. 

The axe falls from the stump with a loud thump, and both Lena and Kara startle apart. Kara releases her grip on the cloak, and Lena quickly tugs it around her, feeling exposed for some reason. The cool air gushing between them clears Lena’s head. 

Kara, on the other hand, looks slightly dazed. She swallows, and Lena watches the muscles in her throat bob. 

“I better go in,” Lena murmurs. “It is getting chilly.” Kara’s normally intense gaze is hazy and soft, and her lips are parted. 

“I’ll build a fire later,” Kara promises, and Lena gives a slight nod and flees before her legs have a chance to give out under her. 

If she’d looked back, she would have seen Kara standing still, gazing after her, making no move at all towards the pile of logs waiting for her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all the kudos and kind comments :') i didn't expect you guys to like this so much!! thank you <3


	4. Chapter 4

Lena can feel herself sinking. 

It’s hard not to when you’re always in close proximity to a tall, broad woman with unfairly handsome features, gazing at you like you’re the only thing in the room worthy of her full attention. When Kara passes her the cutlery for dinner, the way her slightly calloused fingers drift across Lena’s thumb leaves a searing path of heat behind. When she tinkers on her new project and looks up, Kara is there, chin propped on her arms, meeting her gaze immediately and tilting her lips up into a faint smile. It makes her heart swoop and dip very,  _ very  _ uncomfortably. 

So, Lena decides it’s time to leave. 

Her traitorous heart clenches at the thought, but she shakes it off. Her plan was to go to National City anyway, and she’s been putting it off for too long. As long as she remains in one place for so long, Lillian and her guards will surely catch up to her. It’s safer for Kara and her, that she leaves as soon as possible. 

_ Not like they wouldn’t find you in National City,  _ her wicked mind supplies.  _ You might as well stay for now.  _

Lena knows, deep down, if she gives in to her wants, that she’ll never be free. Worse, she’ll implicate Kara in her mess. 

She straightens up, and deals with her problems in a Luthor fashion: by locking all her vulnerable feelings into a tight little box and swallowing it deep down inside her. She retrieves the sturdy cotton bag that she brought along with her from the manor, and starts to gather her things. 

There’s a slight problem that derails her plans, however. 

Kara seems to have a sixth sense for whenever Lena is planning to leave. When she quietly, mournfully packs away her things in the loft, Kara will clamber up the steps to ask her opinion on one thing or the other. When she’s busy sewing new pockets into her bag, Kara will call Lena over to decide what she should make for dinner, even though Kara probably already has her mind made up. Lena will hesitate, then let herself be drawn in by Kara’s petulant pout when she’s too slow to respond, and get distracted by whatever it is that Kara wanted. 

She’s stealthily arranging her gadgets in the kitchen, deep in the night when the fire is burning low in the hearth and Kara’s quiet snoring on the bench rumbles through the hut. Lena peeks over at Kara to make sure she isn’t loud enough to wake her. But somehow, Kara’s sleepy head jerks up like she knows Lena is looking at her. With her eyes still firmly shut, she swivels her head to the kitchen in an almost creepily accurate manner, as if she can hear Lena sneaking around in there. One tired groan later, Kara peels herself off the couch, lumbering over to the tiny kitchen like a large golden bear, her blonde curls adorably mussed into a misshapen, curly cloud.    
  
“Wha’ ya doin’?” Kara mumbles, peeling a strand of hair away from her cheek. Her eyes are still closed. She rubs at them with the heel of her palm, and it’s astounding how this statuesque alien, who looked like she could rip a log apart with her bare hands, could look so heartbreakingly endearing. 

“I have to go soon, remember? To National City,” Lena says, sounding quietly reluctant. Kara gives a sleepy grunt, arms braced on the dining table, and cracks one eye open to frown at the window, where the snow is coming down in a heavy flurry. 

“Now?” Her slightly hoarse, sleep-laden voice makes the butterflies in Lena’s stomach swoop. “We’re in the middle of winter.” She leans back and stretches her arms above her head, groaning as her joints pop. Lena tries, and fails, to not look at her bare, toned arms, the sharp lines of her neck muscles tensing. She does  _ not _ jump when Kara leans close, looking over her shoulder at the contents of her bag. The heat radiating off her envelops Lena like a roaring fire, and she can’t help but to lean back into the sturdy, safe warmth of Kara’s body. 

Maybe it's the soft lighting of the dying fire, the late hour, or even the snow quietly beating down outside, but Kara allows Lena the overly familiar contact. Lena’s breath hitches in her throat when Kara’s hands land on the table on either side of her, and she rests her chin on Lena’s shoulder. The plain shift Lena wears to bed has moved, and Kara’s chin rests directly on Lena’s bare shoulder. When she noses sleepily into the warm juncture between Lena’s neck and shoulder and gives a low sigh, Lena stops thinking entirely. 

“Think about it when spring is here,” Kara murmurs sleepily. Lena forgets what she’s supposed to be thinking about. Kara takes her hand and leads her back to the loft, and she follows easily, willingly, like a moth drawn to the flame. She lets herself be tucked back into bed. 

And so it repeats, Lena cursing herself for being so weak. 

These turbulent emotions have Lena figuring out a brand new, maladaptive coping method; making wine. Her scientific knowledge actually works here (she still can’t quite get the hang of cooking yet) and when she successfully ferments her first real bottle of wine, she does an embarrassing little dance in the kitchen, which quickly dies when Kara steps into the hut. 

The annoying way Kara’s lips quirk makes her feel like she wasn’t quite as discreet as she hoped. 

“What’s got you into such a good mood?” Kara eyes the bottle in her hands curiously. “What’s that?”    
  
“I made wine!” She pounds the glass bottle onto the table proudly, and turns around to hunt for mugs. Kara’s face pales. Any food-related thing Lena makes has a high percentage of not being actually edible. She watches skeptically as Lena pours a thick reddish liquid into a clay mug, and holds it out to Kara. Kara sniffs it cautiously, looks pleadingly over at Lena, who’s watching her with a hopefully expectant face. Kara groans internally at the thought of her being disappointed, and takes a very tiny sip. 

Blue eyes widen in surprise. The wine is actually sweet, if not a little lumpy and thick. 

“It’s good,” she admits, and the way Lena’s face lights up is worth it, even if the wine tasted like sewage. 

“Really?” she beams, and Kara finds herself returning the smile. “We should have drinks tonight then, after dinner.” She leans closer and gives Kara a conspiring wink. “I should let you know, Luthors aren’t lightweights.” 

Kara chuckles. “Human liquor doesn’t actually affect me that much.”    
  
Lena pouts. “It doesn’t? That’s no fun.” 

“Actually, I still have a store of alien liquor here somewhere,” Kara says hurriedly to remedy Lena’s dismayed look. Lena rewards her with a grin, clutching her precious bottle to her chest.    
  
It turns out that Kara  _ is _ a lightweight when it comes to alien liquor. Lena suggested the brilliant idea of mixing the liquor with her homemade wine, and it sweetens and dulls the taste of it so much that Kara is soon tipsy, her large frame swaying dangerously close to the edge of the couch. It takes serious effort for Lena to yank her back so that she doesn’t fall off, and Kara leans heavily against her side. She lets out a suspiciously high-pitched, drunken giggle. 

“You really can’t hold your liquor, Kara Zor-El.” Lena gently pokes the tip of her nose. Kara almost goes cross-eyed trying to follow it. 

“I never had a chance to drink much.” Kara wrinkles her nose adorably as Lena continues tickling it. “My tribe used to have parties all the time, but I was not old enough to drink yet.” 

Lena pauses. Kara had a tribe? It was silly to realise that now, as Kara must have had a family somewhere. But living here, secluded away from the rest of the world, made Lena forget that. 

“Where is your tribe now?” 

“Dead,” Kara slurs candidly, too tipsy to notice the wince that flashes across Lena’s face. “Suppose it's our fault for living so near a human settlement. We were strong, almost invincible, compared to a human, and they saw us as a threat. We tried to reach out, but.” She rattles on, liquor loosening her tongue, even as her eyebrows are knitting tight together. “They didn’t like us, so they spent years finding out our weakness. And they did.”    
  
Lena’s heart withers in her chest. 

“What was it?” she whispers, barely audible over the crackle of the fire. 

“Kryptonite.” Kara’s blue eyes are glazed over, staring straight into the fire like she can see her past happening right in front of her. “A mineral that poisons us. It completely wiped out the tribe. I was the only one left, because my mother had the sense to hide me in a pod, deep inside the forest. I didn’t dare to leave for several days, because I was afraid of dying.” Her voice is dull, detached, but Lena can hear it cracking. “I hid like a coward while the rest of my tribe were slaughtered.” She looks into her mug, and downs the rest of the wine in one big gulp. "Guess I'm paying for it by hiding out here for the rest of my life." 

Lena reaches over to put her hand over Kara’s, and gently pulls the mug away from her. Kara doesn’t move, but she stares down at their hands, entwined together. 

“You were not a coward.” Lena cradles Kara’s jaw in one hand, the other smoothing away the blonde curls coming loose from her braid. “You were merely a frightened child. That is all.” Kara shuts her eyes at the touch, her bottom lip trembling. “You shouldn't carry the guilt of a treacherous choice made by...by murderous humans."

Kara lets out a long, shaky breath and opens her eyes, shining with tears. Lena thinks they look like the smooth blue pebbles she once found at a lake, worn and dulled by pressure, but still beautiful. 

“You deserve to live.” Lena says the words she’s always wanted to hear. “Your mother saved you because she knew that.” 

Kara turns to her, the glow of the fireplace flickering against her tanned skin, making her look soft and vulnerable and open. She presses her forehead to Lena’s for comfort, and Lena continues running her thumb soothingly over Kara’s cheek. 

“Why would she save me, if it meant that I’d be here all alone?” Kara’s voice cracks at the end, and Lena feels her chest caving in at the quiet agony in her words. “I don’t want to be alone.” 

Lena gently wipes the tears that roll down Kara’s cheeks, her face twisted in sympathy. 

“You’re not alone, not anymore. I’m here.” 

Kara looks down at her. For a long moment, she does nothing except to take Lena in. Her hand reaches up to thread through Lena’s inky black hair, gentle despite their size. Lena finds herself leaning into her warm palm, and when Kara drifts down towards her, she finds herself answering, moving up into her. 

The kiss is unbearably soft, and warm, and it gushes through Lena like hot tea on a wintry night. Kara is exceedingly, frustratingly gentle, like she’s afraid that a single move will snap Lena in half. She curls her fingers into Kara’s tunic, tugs her closer to deepen the kiss. When Kara swipes her tongue daringly across Lena’s lips, Lena gasps and finds herself being pressed back into the furs, tasting nothing but Kara and the sweet hint of wine. 

When Kara pulls away from her lips with a slick sound, Lena’s head is spinning. Kara looks beautifully dazed, a soft flush spreading over her cheeks and the tip of her nose. 

“Stay,” Kara pleads quietly, calloused thumb brushing over Lena’s bottom lip. 

Lena thinks she nods, but she’s already pulling Kara down again. She goes down willingly, but her hands grasp Lena’s waist and expertly flips her over so she’s straddling Kara, her green eyes wide and her hair in a disarray at the sudden movement. Her tipsy brain needs a second to right itself, but she’s already guided down to Kara’s greedy mouth by a firm hand, and the kiss, complete with Kara’s teeth scraping gently against her bottom lip, knocks the breath right out of her again. 

The other hand is travelling dangerously down Lena’s side, running circles along her hip where the fabric of Lena’s shift is starting to ride up against her thigh. She’s trapped between wanting to rip herself away or guiding Kara’s hand to where she really wants it to be, when Kara’s head dips back strangely, eyes fluttering. 

It takes about a minute for Lena to figure out that Kara’s falling asleep. She can tell Kara is blinking hard, trying to stay awake, and Lena doesn’t even try to pretend she isn’t enamoured by how she looks. She smooths a palm against Kara’s forehead. 

“Go to sleep,” she whispers, and chuckles when Kara pouts, wine-stained lips luring Lena back for another kiss.    
  
“Stay?” she says hopefully, and Lena feels her box of locked away emotions rattle so loudly that it's impossible to ignore.    
  
By the time she's able to open her mouth to form a response, Kara is already dead asleep, nuzzling into Lena's palm like an oversized cat. Her arm is a dead weight across Lena's back. 

She gently extracts herself from under Kara’s arm and pads softly to the kitchen, cleaning up and putting away the used mugs. She catches sight of her half-packed cotton bag, hidden away under the kitchen sink. She picks it up and lays it on the kitchen table, staring at the contents for a long moment. 

Quietly, she unpacks it, and hangs the empty bag up in the loft.    
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally, the kiss!!! 
> 
> thank you for reading! comments are loved and appreciated <3


	5. Chapter 5

Kara has always felt like sunlight. 

When she’s bent over her work, concentrating, she’s the steady mid-morning light; braided hair glowing and framing her sharp features in a halo of gold. 

When she laughs, bright and unbridled, she’s the late afternoon sun, warm and cozy, all loose limbs and twinkling eyes.

Now, curled up on the furs next to her, Lena brushes her fingertips gently over Kara’s face, tracing lightly against the bridge of her nose. Her rumbly snoring is interrupted as she snorts and wrinkles her nose, then tries to hide it sleepily in Lena’s neck. Lena can’t help but smile at her endearingly, smoothing her hand over messy blonde curls as Kara pulls her closer, a heavy arm slung tight over Lena’s hips. 

Lena sinks into her warmth, into the peace of sleeping by Kara’s side. She’s snuggled and held tight like a child’s stuffed toy, but she finds she doesn’t mind it in the least. She watches the morning light stretch through the round windows, listens to the soft twittering of birds waking up outside. Her fingers lightly skim across Kara’s arm, silently marvelling at the bulge of her muscles as she clutches Lena tightly to her. 

“Mm.” The snoring stops, and Kara shifts, lifting her warm head from Lena’s neck. She blinks sleepily up at her, a frown tugging on the edges of her mouth.   
  
“Good morning,” Lena whispers. “Did I wake you? I didn’t mean to.”

Kara gazes at her, blue eyes hazy like she can’t believe she’s looking at Lena. Then her grumpy face smooths out into a wide smile, and she grabs Lena’s hand, plopping it on top of her messy curls.   
  
“Do it again,” Kara murmurs sleepily. “Pet.” Lena digs her fingers obediently into Kara’s scalp, brushing her hair back, and Kara makes a happy moan, arms tightening around her. Lena ignores the way that sound shoots her right through her stomach. 

When she takes in a calming breath and looks down, Kara is staring up at her, eyes half-lidded, that dastardly handsome smile lingering on her lips. She’s never seen this side of Kara before, open and vulnerable and wholly unguarded. 

When Kara pushes herself up and presses a shy kiss to Lena’s mouth, her giggle makes Lena think of the dawn’s gentle light, breaking warm and easy over her skin.   
  


* * *

  
Lena’s busy tinkering, hands protected by the fitted snakeskin gloves that Kara made for her. She’d burned her fingers one too many times on the soldering iron, and the tiny scars never go unnoticed by Kara’s sharp eyes. 

It’s one of the many gifts that Lena secretly cherishes. If not for Kara’s insistence, she would have kept them somewhere safely to admire, and she’d never bear to wear them.

She’s carefully unravelling a ball of wire when a loud crash startles her so much that she drops it.

There’s a moment of silence where Lena is frozen on the chair, her gut swirling with unease. She realises she can’t hear anything; not the rustling of trees, not the soft birdsong outside. She’s just about to bend over to retrieve the ball when something crashes into the hut again, and Lena’s heart rate skyrockets. The walls shake alarmingly and the door flies open to reveal Kara, slumped over and limping, trying to stagger her way in without falling over. 

Lena is up in a flash, her tools clattering to the ground. Kara’s head snaps up at the sound, and Lena is stunned by the sight of her. The tip of her frazzled blond braid is stained with blood, and her left cheek is covered in a ghastly slash, the edges of her wound already turning a nasty purple and blue. 

There is blood caked to her tattered cloak and her shoes, trailing dark footprints on the floor. When Kara raises her finger to her lips, the blood smears across her pale, cracked mouth, a line of shocking red against her pallid face. 

Her ornate axe is dripping, stained so red that it almost looks black. It drops down into the wooden floor carelessly, with a thump so loud that Lena jumps. 

Kara closes the space between them, and Lena manages to stay quiet even though she wants to cry out and gather Kara into her arms. Her large frame looms over Lena, and up close, Lena is struck by the haunted, furious look in her eyes, cold and distant as ice. 

“Kara?” she asks, voice hushed and afraid. Cracked fissures of green run up the sides of Kara’s cheek as she gazes down at Lena, her breaths short and pained. “What happened?”   
  
“Soldiers of Luthor,” she spits, jaw tight. Lena feels her stomach drop, her heart seizing in her chest. 

“And this?” She runs a gentle finger over her veins, flashing green. Kara’s skin feels unnaturally hot, even though she’s pale as a ghost.   
  
“Kryptonite-laced weapons.” Kara’s face twists in disgust or agony; she can’t tell which it is. 

Lena knew this would happen; the ill-fated choices she made would catch up with her eventually, and now Kara is paying the price for her freedom. It was foolish to think her mother wasn’t watching and waiting, scheming for a moment to strike them at their weakest. 

Lena just thought she might have had a bit more time. 

Kara leans down and scoops Lena up, hoisting her easily into her arms despite her injuries. Lena can see the strange green streaks stretching down her strong neck, dipping below her collarbones. 

“You hide.” Kara’s voice is strained and tight. “I just have to get rid of the rest of them, get them off my trail, and I’ll be back.” Lena realises Kara is carrying her straight to their underground cellar, and she starts to struggle in Kara’s arms.   
  
“I’m not hiding. Put me down.” She shoves at Kara’s shoulders, yet Kara does nothing else but give a low grunt. “Kara!” She starts pummelling desperately at her chest when Kara lowers them into the darkness of the cellar, her face grim and determined. She deposits Lena onto the cold floor and turns immediately to leave, but Lena grips onto the edges of her tattered cloak. 

“Kara Zor-El, you stop right this second,” Lena snaps. Mercifully, she pauses, broad shoulders blocking the light from the tiny exit, and looks down at Lena with such a lost, longing look that makes Lena want to shake her. 

“I can help-”   
  
“No.” The steel in Kara’s voice echoes through the cellar. “There are too many soldiers out there, and I can’t look out for both you and them.” 

“You don’t have to look out for me.” Lena is exasperated. “I can-”   
  
“No. It’s too dangerous.”   
  
“Kara, can you let me get a word in? If you aren’t, don’t even think I’m going to stay in here while you get yourself killed out there!” That gets Kara’s attention, her shoulders tensing. “I’ll leave, and I-”   
  
In a flash, Lena is pinned up against the wall, Kara’s mouth twisted into a frustrated snarl. 

**“Stay.”** It’s a command, low and booming, but Kara’s hands are holding Lena’s wrists so gently that it almost betrays her words. She glares at Lena, not even a hint of summer sky in her steel blue gaze. Lena’s breath hitches in her throat, eyes widening, and Kara mistakes it for fear. She immediately rubs soothing circles into Lena’s wrists, her face crumpling. 

“I can’t...I’m not,” Kara chokes on her words, and she winces as the green kryptonite in her veins flash. “I’m not strong enough to protect you, Lena.” The steel in her eyes has faded, only glossy, vulnerable blue, as soft and open as the night in front of the fire. Her legs buckle, and slowly, she sinks to her knees, still holding onto Lena’s hands. “I can’t lose you, too. Please.” Her shaky breath ghosts over Lena’s knuckles. _“Please.”_

Lena feels like her ribs are being crushed, like she can’t breathe under the weight of Kara’s begging. She crouches down low, and pulls her hands away so she can cup Kara’s face. She presses a soothing kiss to her lips, tasting blood and fear. 

“You don’t have to do this alone, Kara.” Kara whimpers when Lena draws away, her dark blonde brows furrowed in confusion. “Do you trust me?” 

Kara hesitates, but she nods once, firmly. Lena gets to her feet, pulling Kara along behind her and out of the cellar. When they stand together before the kitchen table, Lena brushes aside her tools and gathers up a strange-looking roll of black cloth.   
  
She unclips Kara’s tattered and blood-soaked cloak, trying not to grimace as it reveals more of the harrowing green poison glowing on Kara’s pale skin. She arches on her tiptoes and throws the cloth around Kara’s shoulders, fastening the gold clip right above her breastbone. 

The effect is almost immediate. The green veins retreat, and Kara lets out a loud, relieved gasp, chest heaving as the kryptonite is absorbed into the cloak. 

“How-” She pats herself down, looking astonished at the fading green marks. Even the nasty cut on her cheek is starting to heal, the purple bruise looking less swollen.   
  
“Anti-kryptonite cloak.” Lena brushes her hair back, feeling immensely grateful that it worked. It was a nine hour project and an insane gamble. “I made it last night, after what you said. I can’t believe it worked so well, I-”   
  
Lena doesn’t get another word in before she’s lifted up into a kiss, crushed against Kara’s chest. She’s spun around in the air once, and she gives a breathless, delighted laugh against Kara’s lips. Already, the colour has come back into Kara’s cheeks, and she’s flushed and beaming, her skin golden and bright. 

“You made this, too?” Kara brushes a finger wonderingly over the gold clip, the engraved House of El symbol gleaming. 

“I saw it in the carvings you made on everything you created. I thought it might have meant something special to you.”   
  
“It does.” Kara’s eyes are shining, wet and glossy. “It’s my tribe’s emblem.” 

“Oh,” Lena says quietly. She can’t look away from the intense blue gaze, like she's looking right through Lena’s soul. “What does it mean?”   
  
“ _El mayarah.”_ Her breath catches in her throat at the sound of the foreign language, low and raspy on Kara’s tongue. How has she never asked Kara to speak in her native language before? “Stronger together.” 

“Very fitting,” is all Lena can say, but Kara gives her a wide, teary grin, and kisses her again, deeply. It fills Lena with a kind of wholeness she can’t explain. 

The shouting in the distant tears them apart. Even Lena can tell it’s a small army, judging by the clanking and storming. Kara turns to look in the direction of the noise, her sharp eyes narrowing. Lena tightens her grip in Kara’s cloak. She knows it’s just a tiny portion of her mother’s army, and as soon as Kara fights off this onslaught, there’ll be another one waiting for them on the horizon. She grasps Kara by the jaw and turns her face so that Kara will look her in the eye. 

“Run away with me,” Lena says in a rushed breath. 

Kara stares at her, then a playful grin pulls at her lips. Gently, she lowers Lena to her feet and yanks the axe out of the floor. Now that she isn’t poisoned or caked in blood, she stands taller, shoulders loose and relaxed, her stance strong. With Lena’s sturdy black cloak wrapped around her, gold clip gleaming at her throat, she seems ten feet tall in the little hut, like she could take on the world. 

Kara shuts her eyes and tilts her head, listening. 

“Thirty men,” she mumbles. “That gives you about five minutes to pack your things.” She gives Lena a roguish wink, slinging her axe over her shoulder, and Lena rolls her eyes.   
  
“Show off.” She grabs Kara’s leather rucksack, and tiptoes to kiss the corner of her mouth soundly. “If you don’t come back in five minutes, I’m leaving without you.”   
  
“You won’t,” Kara beams confidently.

“I won’t,” she confirms, and Kara’s warm, happy chuckle rings in her ears as she speeds out of the door.   
  


* * *

  
By the time Lillian Luthor has the sense of mind not to underestimate them, the remaining soldiers she sent are too late. 

They charge into the tiny hut and tear it apart, Lillian standing in the middle of the mess, fists clenched white and shaking. 

The hut is deserted, except for a little cotton bag hanging from the loft.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End. 
> 
> wow i think this is my first fanfic that I ever finished...  
> thank you for reading! comments are always well appreciated<3 
> 
> or
> 
> come yell at me on tumblr @rosejellyy


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